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Tag: Utah

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Chasing George Wyman: A Malfunction Junction

On Tuesday, June 27th, I rolled out of my motel bed, fumbled into my riding gear, and checked out with my helmet on and my pannier bags under my arm. 10 minutes later, I was settling into my second day of the ride with a gorgeous Nevada morning. This second day would take me into Utah, across the Bonneville Salt Flats, over the Wasatch mountain range, and into the rolling hills of Wyoming. I had been concerned that the second day would be worse than the first day, however, after fueling up and the initial discomfort of climbing back into a saddle in which I had just spent 16 hours wore off, the clear early morning air had me exhilarated and ready to settle into the 570 miles I needed to cover to reach our next rendezvous point in Laramie, Wyoming. Little did I know that I would not make it to Laramie that day, nor that I would end the day 200 miles short of the rest of the group as a result of a mechanical issue that was entirely my fault!

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The Wide Open Spaces

Mike Boyd is an American treasure, though he does not perceive himself as such. A Vietnam combat veteran, Huey helicopter pilot, and Purple Heart recipient among other honors, Mike has experienced much of life in his 70+ years. Among his great loves is motorcycling, of which he has amassed untold miles criss-crossing America upon countless bikes over his lifetime. Mike has photographed for us here at Road Dirt as well, and we love the guy. He may be all of 5’7” or so, but he’s 10-feet tall to us.
Mike recently completed a trip out west astride a new Honda CB500X with plenty of photos, and we wanted to share his journey with you. Our hope is that you’ll enjoy his trip chronicle, and be inspired to launch out on your own adventure this year.

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My Soul Said Go

This is for you, mister random Yosemite Valley stranger who spun on your heels and approached me while I dismounted my bike that sweltering July day, who stopped your walk along God’s Country to ridicule my exhausted frame as I peeled sweaty gear off my back, who halted gazing at El Capitan so you could critique me.  You pulled your focus from where it should have been to where it had no business being, aiming your spiteful arrows at me to offer a cutting remark to this travel weary vagabond.
“Is it worth it?” you inquired rather sarcastically.  Then before I could respond, you turned and walked away.

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Super Natural

I think there is something in our biking DNA, something that makes us wonder and wander and spirit us to adventure. We may be our nation’s last living symbol of American freedom, exploring the frontier and what the hell ever comes our way. Thankfully, there are still parts of this country that seem untouched by civilization, wild and ancient and otherworldly lands.

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